This copy is for your personal non-commercial use only. To order presentation-ready copies of Toronto Star content for distribution to colleagues, clients or customers, or inquire about permissions/licensing, please go to: www.TorontoStarReprints.com

Sawyer Wood is small for his age, which is 4. He has strawberry blond hair, a tracheotomy, and loves to jump on his hospital bed.

The little boy was born with heart failure and whisked to the Hospital for Sick Children at birth. He had open-heart surgery at four days old. Since then, he has spent 80 per cent of his short life in the hospital, the most recent stint going on nine weeks.

His hospital room is covered in well wishes: handwritten get-well cards from his friends back in Bowmanville, colourful notes from the Girl Guides who write to him. A paper heart dangles from his IV pole.

Sawyer has DiGeorge Syndrome, a genetic disorder caused by a missing part of his 22nd chromosome. Though Sawyer’s cognitive development is mostly normal, his condition renders him unable to speak and, recently, unable to digest food.

Even though he can’t sing, he loves when his music therapist visits with her guitar. He’s able to dance, pound on a drum and select which songs he wants to hear from a set of laminated cards Carolyn Williams brings to his private room on the seventh floor of Sick Kids.

Article Continued Below

After about 15 minutes when he tires of songs about the wheels on the bus going ’round and the dog named B-I-N-G-O, he can select the card that reads “Goodbye.”

Music therapist Carolyn Williams sings with Sawyer Wood, who has DiGeorge Syndrome, and his mother Kayla Schultz. Williams uses music to connect with children and their families and provide outlets for expression of feelings, and for relaxation and stimulation. (Steve Russell / Toronto Star) | Order this photo

Music therapist Carolyn Williams plays guitar an sings to 5-year-old Quenton Muller, who sings back to her. Williams uses music to connect with children and their families and provide outlets for expression of feelings, and for relaxation and stimulation. (Steve Russell / Toronto Star) | Order this photo

His mom, Kayla Schultz, 25, says his favourite star is Mr. Bean, who doesn’t talk, but relies on body language for physical comedy on the classic British TV show.

“Sawyer loves music, ever since he was a baby. He’s always dancing. He always has something musical on,” Schultz said. “He loves playing with Carolyn and he loves being able to direct playtime with her. It’s really important to him . . . there’s a lot that’s out of his control.

“The music therapy is something he can look forward to and it’s something he can take the lead in.”

Music therapy was launched at Sick Kids in 1999 by fellow music therapist Ruth Roberts, who is also a former nurse. The program is funded entirely by philanthropy. Research has shown music therapy can bring psychological benefits, alleviate feelings of grief and fear, and may even speed up recovery.

Williams brings her guitar and a few other instruments, such as the xylophone, the maracas and a wooden drum called the tamboa.

Her main instrument is her lilting voice.

For two years, she’s been singing to pediatric patients with all kinds of conditions, many of whom are medically fragile or have complex medical histories.

“Generally, a lot of the patients I see are children who have prolonged hospitalizations and, because of that, may require some support from a developmental perspective,” Williams said.

Even sedated patients or those without a noticeable physical response can be helped with music therapy. For example, a 6-year-old with a serious wound required her dressings changed daily, a process that took over an hour. With a few pop songs played softly, the girl — and the nurses — relaxed.

“Her heart rate would go up over 200 (beats a minute). She was not crying, there were no tears, but she was clearly in pain,” Williams said. “I came in and, through music, not only for her, but the entire room, everybody was less stressed. Her heart rate went down and she eventually fell asleep.”

With teenage patients, Williams is often the audience. Or she and a patient might watch music videos from Taylor Swift to Tracy Chapman and then discuss the themes that arise in the lyrics. Some sing their own songs, and some just want to hear Justin Bieber. Or the Beatles.

During a recent session with Quenton Muller, 5, the boy opened his mouth and allowed sound to come out when he was encouraged to sing along. That’s a profound development for Quenton, who is non-verbal, non-ambulatory and just last week was in intensive care with pneumonia, Williams said.

“It was lovely to experience that for him, and see his response to music.”

And sometimes, as with Sawyer, it just keeps patients upbeat and creative — a highlight in a long day of tests and treatments.

More from the Toronto Star & Partners

LOADING

Copyright owned or licensed by Toronto Star Newspapers Limited. All rights reserved. Republication or distribution of this content is expressly prohibited without the prior written consent of Toronto Star Newspapers Limited and/or its licensors. To order copies of Toronto Star articles, please go to: www.TorontoStarReprints.com